


Seeking Solace

by SolarMorrigan



Series: Those 100 [15]
Category: The Real Ghostbusters
Genre: Cuddling, Gen, I used poor Ray as a plot device, Pre-Slash, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-03 19:53:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2885507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolarMorrigan/pseuds/SolarMorrigan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It happened after a bad bust—and wasn’t that always when the inexcusably tender things suddenly became excusable?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seeking Solace

It happened after a bad bust—and wasn’t that always when the inexcusably tender things suddenly became excusable?  Peter didn’t ponder on the idea as he sat on the edge of Egon’s bed.  Ray’s and Winston’s beds across the bunkroom were conspicuously empty.

Instead of his own, cartoon-sheeted bed, Ray was currently occupying a bed in the ICU at one of New York City’s many fine hospitals.  Getting hit by a car did tend to lay one up for a bit.  Had things been less serious, Peter might have made a crack about the state not issuing driver’s licenses to ghosts, but he didn’t have the heart.  The fact was, a spook-powered vehicle had sent Ray flying across the street where they were performing their work, scaring the shit out of the three remaining Ghostbusters.  Though he had escaped with just a concussion, a broken arm, and a few nasty lacerations, they were all shaken; probably Ray least of all, considering the hospital staff had him on some pretty heavy pain meds.  They had wanted to keep him at least overnight and, surprise, surprise, they would only allow one sentry posted at his bedside.

To be fair, technically no visitors were allowed overnight, but they did make an exception in the case of the “ghost cops.”  Egon, Peter, and Winston had drawn straws and Winston had won the pot.  He had stayed to keep an unaware and heavily-bandaged Ray company while Egon and Peter were shooed away by an adamant nurse.

They came home to the firehouse, assured Janine of Ray’s stable condition, went through the motions of containing the two class sixes they _had_ managed to capture (and when they tracked down the one that got away, Peter promised he would take special pleasure in letting the bastard writhe in his beam for a while before they trapped it), charging the packs, and shelving equipment.  Even Peter, who loathed menial tasks of any kind, took a certain comfort in the routine.

However, after agreeing that showering and going to bed would be the best course of action, Peter had hit a snag.  Though he was always up for a nap—and he did mean always—he found himself completely unable to fall asleep on this particular night.  A dull metallic thud, followed by the sight of Ray flying through the air and landing in a broken heap on the asphalt would play out in his mind any time he shut his eyes.  Instead, he found himself situated on the edge of Egon’s bed, wondering if watching one of his other best friends, healthy and peaceful, would do anything to quiet his mind.  “Peter, if you intend on staring at me all night, you may as well lay down.” Or maybe not so peaceful.

“I’m not gonna stare at you _all_ night.  Just half the night.  Figured if that didn’t bore me to sleep, I could go take the milk out of the fridge and watch it curdle for funsies.”

Egon squinted across the bed, his eyesight impaired not only by his lack of spectacles, but by the dark as well.  “Either go back to your own bed, or lay down here, but please stop looming over me in the darkness.  It’s… unnerving.”

Peter sighed.  “Sorry, Spengs.  Just shaken up after today, y’know.”

“Of course,” Egon nodded, bracing his elbows beneath him to give him a better vantage of the man hovering at the end of his bed, “It’s perfectly understandable.  I certainly cannot claim to be unaffected by today’s events.”

“Double negatives, Egon?  You really must be cracking up in there.” Egon couldn’t see the smirk on Peter’s face, but he knew it was there nonetheless.

“Yes, well, as amusing as the Venkman wit truly is, I would appreciate it if you would make your decision.  Visiting hours start at 8:30 in the morning and I would like to be there at that time.”

Peter paused, and Egon could sense more than see the gaze resting on him.  Finally, the brunet stood and gave an exaggerated stretch.  “No arguments from me, Egon.  I’ll just… head back over to my own bunk.” He murmured into the shadows.

“Peter,” Egon reached out and caught the edge of tank top Peter had worn to bed, “I did mean it.  You are welcome to stay in my bed tonight.  I was not faring much better than you in getting some rest.  Perhaps together we will find more solace than we did apart.”

“Well, sure,” Peter shrugged, “I’m gonna get cold lying on top of your comforter there, though.”

“Interestingly enough, the blankets do lift away from the mattress, providing one access to the warmth contained therein.” Egon replied dryly, pulling back the covers to make room for Peter.

“Huh, imagine that,” Peter said lightly, even as he slipped into the bed beside Egon, “Must be a new feature.”

“Indeed.” Egon agreed with a small smile he knew Peter wouldn’t see in the dark.

Neither man ventured over the invisible middle division of the bed at first, until Egon reached out and curled a hand around Peter’s forearm in a rare show of physical comfort.  It gave Peter pause before he shook his head with a muttered, “ah, hell,” and breached the space between them entirely.  He sipped one arm over Egon’s midsection and pressed his body up to the side of the taller man’s, resting his head on Egon’s shoulder.  “That’s better.” Peter declared.

Egon shifted slightly under his grasp, and Peter feared he might have read his longtime friend incorrectly before realizing the man was only finding a more comfortable position.  “Yes, I must agree.”

It was something of a strange sensation; the two had shared close spaces before, had practically abolished each other’s personal space, in fact, but being pressed together in the same bed was altogether new, though most pleasant in any case.  Egon found himself surprisingly comforted by the deep, even sound of Peter’s breathing, and Peter similarly so by the steady rise and fall of Egon’s chest.  They lay together in comfortable silence, beginning to drop off into sleep, before Peter’s voice broke through the darkness.  “Thanks, Egon.”

“Any time, Peter.” Egon replied quietly

Peter hoped he meant it, because he seriously intended on taking him up on the offer.


End file.
